


Quid Pro Quo

by Ahwuum



Category: Dream Team (Video Blogging RPF), Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Bargaining, Based on a lowfatmilk comic, Fluff, Kinda, Kissing, Like literally this is all just kissing lmao, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Teasing, i guess?, make out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:53:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28914909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahwuum/pseuds/Ahwuum
Summary: “How about,” Sapnap hums, lips curling into a lazy smirk as he brings his thumb up, gliding up his chin and- “a kiss, instead?”George feels the tip of his thumb press against his bottom lip, feels it slowly drag along as Sapnap’s eyes track the movement, half-lidded and filled with dark amusement. He feels himself shudder briefly, mesmerised as they trail back up his face, losing himself as they lock onto his own yet again, something about Sapnap’s gaze magnetising, intense.Electrifying.
Relationships: GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 582





	Quid Pro Quo

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya!! So! Decided by a poll ran on my twitter, my return from my break is with this fic! going forward I'll be uploading weekly, since I think that'll be much more sustainable for me (especially since I'll be moving very soon) which means the next kinktober chapter will be published next week! I'm not sure if it will remain weekly or perhaps become a fortnightly upload, seeing as I have other oneshots finished I would also like to post soon! 
> 
> I also have my more longform works (like kintsugi for example) that still need to be finished, so I also need to juggle my focus on those projects as well.
> 
> Anyways if you wanna be able to join in on polls and help decide what gets released, please follow my twitter [Ahwuum](https://twitter.com/ahwuum)
> 
> This fic was also inspired by [Lowfatmilk's comic!](https://www.instagram.com/p/CJ-e4jklbRi/?igshid=vn1muyfdr36l) Please go check it out and give it a like and follow them! Their art is truly amazing and they're very kind for allowing me to post this :]

“Sapnap!” George huffs, grinding his teeth in frustration after five whole minutes of trying to reason with him, “give me the sword!”

It’s a futile attempt, really, he knows that, but still—he doesn’t know any other way to convince Sapnap to do what he wants, apart from maybe begging for it. And that is _not_ happening.

Really, he shouldn’t be as mad as he is, after all, it’s not even his sword, it’s _Ponk’s;_ he’s just excited at the prospect of killing his friend with his own sword, and now Sapnap’s teased him by offering it, George finds it hard to think about anything else other than getting it. He’s too stubborn for his own good, maybe a little selfish.

Reaching for the sword clasped in Sapnap’s hands, George grunts as his fingertips merely brush against his wrist, Sapnap’s one inch height advantage making it difficult to just _take_ the stupid thing and ignore whatever stupid request he has this time in favour of brute force. He considers jumping for it, almost sure that he could get a grip on the crossguard and get some leverage to pull it down, but it’s not really a viable option.

First of all, it’s likely that Sapnap would see it coming and pull his arm back out of reach, second- well, knowing Sapnap, he wouldn’t make an attempt to push him away as he falls, so George would probably end up pressed awkwardly against his chest, heart hammering dangerously in his chest while Sapnap holds him, refusing to let go as he laughs into his ear and teases him mercilessly until he grows bored. So yeah, not really an option.

He’s _not_ giving him the satisfaction.

“Too slow,” Sapnap giggles as George’s fingers brush across his wrist, reaching, “you can’t just _take_ it, Gogy! That’s not playing fair. You gotta give me a reward!”

George rolls his eyes, presses onto his tip-toes as much as he can without losing his balance, gritting his teeth when the sword is pulled just outside his reach yet again. Surely Sapnap’s arm is going to get tired at some point, right? George can already feel his own muscles aching from all their roughhousing earlier on top of the strain of trying to obtain the sword, yet Sapnap has yet to break a sweat, looking perfectly comfortable.

God what he wouldn’t give to just wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

“Reward?” he scoffs, shoving Sapnap’s shoulder in retaliation for the smug giggles piercing his eardrums, “I already gave you food!”

Two whole chickens, in fact. Maybe not quite worth an enchanted diamond sword, but still, he’d given Sapnap _something,_ and now all he’s asking for is _more._

Sapnap’s hand dips just a fraction and George takes the opportunity to step forward, hand reaching out, up-

And then there’s fingers at his jaw, a thumb curled into his chin and he has the sudden realisation that him and Sapnap are practically nose to nose, his small step forward bringing them closer than George had intended. He feels Sapnap’s breath ghost across his lips, fights back the heat that threatens to bloom over his face as he stares, wide-eyed at the man in front of him.

He can’t remember ever having seen Sapnap’s eyes this up close before.

_(Have they always been this pretty?)_

“How about,” Sapnap hums, lips curling into a lazy smirk as he brings his thumb up, gliding up his chin and- “a kiss, instead?”

George feels the tip of his thumb press against his bottom lip, feels it slowly drag along as Sapnap’s eyes track the movement, half-lidded and filled with dark amusement. He feels himself shudder briefly, mesmerised as they trail back up his face, losing himself as they lock onto his own yet again, something about Sapnap’s gaze magnetising, intense. 

Electrifying.

But he recovers quickly, shaking his head and pushing Sapnap off him completely with a rough shove, something bitter coiling in his stomach at the immediate, carefree giggle Sapnap lets out as he falls back. “A WHAT?!” George nearly yells, barely fighting off the urge to try and beat him to death with his bare fists.

This _idiot._

Sapnap stops giggling enough to look back at him, eyes crinkled at the edges in a way that almost makes him stutter. He almost looks… Soft. That’s not a word he’d normally associate with him, not a word _anyone_ would normally associate with him, really. Sapnap is a forest-fire, a lightning storm, a hurricane, every natural disaster wrapped up into one dangerous and unpredictable package.

Not _soft._

And certainly not pretty when he smiles.

“Look,” Sapnap laughs, tilting his chin up at George almost challengingly as he brandishes the weapon in front of him to make his point, “do you want the sword or _not?”_

They spend a moment staring each other down, Sapnap’s eyes glittering with smug satisfaction while George glowers with annoyance and exasperation, thinking. His eyes dip to Sapnap’s lips for barely a second before he rips them away, ignoring the smirk he can practically _hear_ stretch across his lips.

“Ugh,” George groans, turning back to look at him and setting his jaw as he makes his decision, “fine!”

Before Sapnap has the chance to celebrate, to be all annoying and gloat about it, George steps forward, holding back a smile at the way his smirk slips, lips parting in surprise as George leans in, steadying himself with a careful hand on his shoulder.

He swears he hears Sapnap gasp as his lips brush against his cheek, soft enough that he could convince himself he imagined it. Then, he presses his lips down properly, heart pounding heavily in his ears as he pulls away, lips twitching with nerves as he tries to force himself to smirk to cover it, like he’s won something, pulled one over on Sapnap instead of looking like the mess he is.

He doesn’t know why he’s so affected by a simple kiss—one on the _cheek,_ at that, barely anything, a simple brush of his lips against soft skin. He’s been kissed more by his _grandmother,_ and yet George can’t stop his heart racing in his chest, jumping into his throat every time he thinks of how it felt to have Sapnap’s skin under his lips.

It’s nothing, and yet it still makes him wonder what _other_ areas of Sapnap’s face might feel like against his lips.

Sapnap recovers before him, the shocked expression fading, a small smile sliding onto his face for less than a second before he schools his expression back to how he wants it, face twisting into an annoyed pout instead. It bugs him, makes George’s eyebrows furrow in return as something inside him screams at him to get rid of it, that false expression. 

“Nuh-uh,” Sapnap whines, pouting even more dramatically than before and glaring him down, “on the _lips!”_

George’s face really does heat this time, probably going bright red as he strains to not let it show, not that he can tell. On the _lips?_ It’s what it comes down to every time, that idiot. George has never given in, _can’t_ give in, not to this request. Not _this-_

“Seriously?” he scoffs after a moment’s hesitation, glaring as hard as he’s able, trying to muster every ounce of disgust and hatred he can into the gaze and failing miserably as butterflies swarm his stomach, “ugh, _fine._ Whatever.”

It escapes his lips before he even realises what he’s just agreed to, before he realises what he’s doing. And then there’s no stopping it.

They step close to each other again, nose to nose. George’s eyes dart to Sapnap’s mouth, lips shiny and so, so _soft._ Anticipation thrums in the pit of his stomach and George forces his eyes to flutter shut as their noses just barely brush against each other, leaving Sapnap to be the one to close the distance between them.

“Just get it over with…” He breathes, voice coming out a little whinier than he’d meant it to as he waits with baited breath for the next move, heart hammering in his ears.

He feels the ghost of Sapnap’s breath against his cheeks, practically hears the way he smiles when George’s eyes squeeze shut a little tighter from the feeling. There’s a pause, a moment of hesitation—or, no, it’s not like Sapnap to hesitate, it feels more like... Teasing.

George forces himself still, forces himself to keep his expression as neutral as possible, not willing to give Sapnap a shred of satisfaction as he waits, patience wearing thin-

And oh.

Oh.

That’s what Sapnap’s lips feel like.

He hasn’t thought about it before, hasn’t spent late hours of the night wondering about this moment, imagining what it might be like to feel his mouth against his lips, how they might fit together. Like they were made for each other? Or perhaps awkward and messy, but still good in it’s own way, still making it work.

He hasn’t pondered on the feel of his lips, soft and sweet like honey, how they might feel carving a path along his skin, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. No, definitely not.

But any fantasy he _might_ have had is certainly proven true and _more._ It’s even better than he could have imagined—if he’d tried—Sapnap’s lips impossibly soft against his own, surprisingly gentle for how insistent he’d been about getting his kiss, and indescribably warm.

His face scrunches up for the briefest of moments as Sapnap’s lips push against his own, trying to fight back the warmth that spreads from his lips to his tongue, settling in his mouth, sweet, then travelling down his throat until he’s forced to swallow it all. There’s no use, the warmth spreading through every inch of him like some sort of disease no matter how hard he tries not to let it, infecting every cell inside him until all George can think is-

_Warm._

He’s so warm.

It’s all-consuming, endless, flames licking along his skin as Sapnap presses closer, mouth insistent against him. George responds with a soft gasp as he tilts his head just slightly, going for a better angle while Sapnap only crowds him in further.

Then he feels Sapnap’s fingers, slightly rough with callouses and scars, brush against his cheek. An embarrassingly needy sort of noise works its way out of George’s throat without permission as he presses his cheek into the touch, moving until the brush of Sapnap’s fingers turn into his palm laid flat against his skin.

George sighs, melting into the kiss while Sapnap’s thump traces soft circles into the top of his cheekbone, the gentle skin of his under eye, stomach doing flips, then twisting itself into knots. 

He nearly whines when Sapnap’s tongue darts out, swipes across the seam of his lips, barely managing to stop himself from making an embarrassment of himself as Sapnap licks at his mouth. He has to steady himself somehow, heart pounding wildly in his ears as his legs tremble ever so slightly, threatening to give out on him.

So he places his hands on Sapnap’s shoulders at first, resting some of his weight there as he parts his lips, falling into the sensation of Sapnap’s tongue licking into his mouth and forgetting about everything around them, every reason he’s ever stopped himself from thinking about him in this way, denied himself these feelings.

All he thinks about is Sapnap’s tongue on his, warm and wet and wonderful.

And then his tongue curls, making George’s head spin as _warmth_ turns to _heat._

He brings his hands from Sapnap’s shoulders to his neck, his jaw, his cheeks, everywhere he can reach. His fingertips brush against the edges of his fringe, palms pressed against the peach fuzz on his jaw, and George lets himself sink further and further and _further,_ pulling Sapnap ever closer without realising he’s doing it.

A hand curls around his hip, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt, and George shivers, sighs softly when they brush up slightly underneath, settling in the dip of his waist. God, he could spend forever like this, Sapnap’s warm, tanned hands gentle on his skin, tracing meaningless patterns in the space just below his ribs.

He could spend forever listening to the little gasps and whimpers Sapnap makes along with him, the stuttered, heavy breathing that falls against his lips, his cheeks. It makes him feel like Sapnap’s feeling this too, both of them losing themselves in the flames, ready to let everything burn along with them as long as it means they get to spend another second just like this.

He can’t be sure that’s what he’s thinking as well, but the way he moans softly against George’s tongue makes him think there might be a chance.

The fingers on his waist squeeze, just slightly, rough against his skin, and George finds himself matching Sapnap’s soft moans, clutching at his cheeks to pull him even closer, to press himself to him as much as he can. He kisses back as eagerly as he’s able, licking back against Sapnap’s tongue whenever the other gives him the opportunity and feeling the butterflies in his stomach swarm worse than ever as Sapnap _groans._

He wants to say something, call his name, or maybe ask him for more, ask him to come back to his room so they can-

But he doesn’t; any words he’d been about to babble dissolve in his mouth as Sapnap guides his tongue out just slightly, the noise of it obscene as he glides them together, slick and hot and overwhelming in every way that just makes George want _more._

And then he pulls his tongue back, pressing forward before George can even think about protesting and wrapping his lips around the tip of his tongue and _sucking._

George moans, toes curling almost painfully hard in his shoes as he tugs the edges of Sapnap’s hair with his fingertips, butterflies quickly turning into molten led and bubbling dangerously at the bottom of his stomach. It only worsens when Sapnap lingers, lets his tongue brush against George’s as he pulls back his lips, releasing his tongue.

And _oh._ Sapnap’s a good kisser.

A _really_ good kisser.

The hand from his hip moves up to join Sapnap’s other hand against his opposite cheek, mirroring each other as they slide slowly down, pausing along the curve of George’s jaw as he kitten licks his tongue. Then they slide further, coming to rest on either side of George’s neck as he takes his bottom lip into his mouth, sinks his teeth lightly into it, nibbling just enough that it edges the boundaries of painful.

But he knows how to toe the line, pulling back before George can even think of complaining and wrapping his fingers round slightly to push into the hair at the nape of his neck.

He sighs, tilting his head back into it just slightly and enjoying the way Sapnap’s fingers flex from the movement, tugging at the slightly damp strands until he sighs yet again, almost identical to the first.

It goes on for what seems like hours, or maybe even just seconds, stretching on for longer than he can count while never seeming to be _enough._ George wants more, even as he pants into Sapnap’s mouth, feels hot, damp breath against as his own as Sapnap matches him, equally dishevelled. Maybe it’s selfish, but it’s true.

And he’s about to ask, about to tangle his fingers in dark locks, tilt his head and whisper into Sapnap’s ear what he wants him to do, when-

“Sapnap?” it’s Dream’s voice, somehow, the sound of the front door shutting behind him cluing them both in to the fact that they’d probably been a little too caught up in each other to notice him enter, “George? Where you guys at?”

George and Sapnap both freeze, gaping at each other for just a moment, wide-eyed and stupified, before George’s brain catches up to the situation. Panicking just slightly, he pushes Sapnap away with perhaps a bit too much force, taking a step back himself for good measure and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand from where a trail of saliva had connected them just moments ago.

He hopes Dream doesn’t notice him wiping his hand against the side of his pants when he comes into the room, hopes the colour of his cheeks isn’t as red as it _feels,_ and hopes to god that Dream doesn’t find Sapnap’s nervous giggle as painfully obvious as he does.

“What are you guys doing?” Dream asks as he pokes his head into the room, mask obscuring his face, which lends itself to giving George absolutely _no_ information on what he’s actually picking up from the scene. He could be totally oblivious to their mutual embarrassment, or…

At the very least, Sapnap is useful for something, quick on his feet to make up an excuse as he pulls the sword, long-forgotten, from his inventory. He grins wide, trying to look as innocent as possible (and instead coming across slightly manic) then holds it out to George, tilting the hilt in his direction.

“Here’s your sword, George!” He practically yells, voice bright and almost perfectly cheerful. Completely unconvincing.

“Thank you so much!” George chirps back, and—okay, they may both be really bad at this. Really, really bad.

He’s sure they’ve completely given themselves away, but all Dream does is tilt his head, the stupid mask stopping him from confirming his fear as the man behind it hums, curious. 

“You guys are being awfully nice to each other…” He says, sounding on the verge of being suspicious. This is it, they really have given themselves away, and now Dream is never going to let them live this down. He’s going to be made fun of for kissing Sapnap for _the rest of his life._

Was it worth it? No.

(Yes.)

“What do you mean?” George laughs softly, pushing his hand to the back of his neck and scratching at it nervously, fingers unconsciously tracing the exact spots Sapnap had been touching just moments before, “we’re _always_ this nice to each other.”

When George glances over at Sapnap for backup their eyes catch, locking into place as they stare each other down and he finds himself unable to break away, unable to save himself from being pulled back under by those deceptively innocent eyes. He can see the same warmth in them as George had felt, the fire still in Sapnap’s eyes, proof that he wasn’t just imagining things. 

He wonders if it’s the same for him as well, the warmth still trying to settle in his core.

“Whatever,” Dream brushes them both off, waving a hand as he turns to leave back where he came, “you guys are weird.”

His footsteps echo down the hall and George feels heat overwhelming his face as the embarrassment finally starts to sink in, unable to meet Sapnap’s gaze any longer as he rips his eyes away. 

“Yeah…” They both agree, though Dream isn’t around to hear them anymore, both of them knowing it’s true. Nothing about this situation is normal.

Nothing about _them_ is normal.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, my twitter is [Ahwuum](https://twitter.com/ahwuum)


End file.
